Perryn
by Belvedere-Gis-Wolf
Summary: She liked keeping her head down and out of trouble. Trouble inevitably found her in Winding Circle Temple, in the form of four other children whose magics and powers far exceeded her own abilities...but they were the only friends and family she had. For that, maybe she could risk getting into a few spots of trouble. OC.


The supervisor was very intimidating. He reminded Perryn of a crow, almost gliding through the rows of small bodies with his smart, black robes fluttering through the nippy breeze. His bony hands would dart out abruptly at times, tugging at the ashen plain uniform they wore as if to make it a bit more presentable, inspecting a scuff of hair that was out of place, or dirt on someone's cheek. His beady black eyes were barely visible under thick, curly eyebrows but it was his abnormally long and crooked nose that frightened her.

Besides her, a very small and thin girl prodded her with her dirt-covered foot. The chains around her feet rattled as she did. "Who do you think will buy us?" The little girl murmured through the corner of her mouth.

Perryn didn't say a thing. She kept her head down, boring her eyes into a boy's back and tried to concentrate on counting the tiny stitches in the material. She didn't want to see the smudge of black in the crowd that was the supervisor, walking through the rows of chained slaves and picking children. She didn't want to talk to these children. She didn't want to see the vulnerable fear in their eyes.

In Perryn's mind, she was back in 8 Porter's Lane; helping Missy prepare Master Herron's dinner. She could almost still smell the scent of rosemary roast chicken and boiled potatoes, fresh tomato soup from the very garden she had worked so hard in, warm doughy bread with cheese and poppy seeds, and the berry-flavoured wine that her and Missy had delighted in juicing on one summer's day.

Her stomach grumbled loudly; Perryn felt her face grow warm as the girl besides her turned away.

"Vivaldi, Moira." A gravely sounding voice spooked the two girls. Perryn's heart leapt into her throat and she grabbed the back of the boy's tunic in front of her. She squeezed her eyes shut, her breath hitched in her chest and she could feel her body beginning to quake on its own will. She couldn't stop the fear.

_Not me. Not me. _Perryn chanted in her head. The girl besides her only scuffled slightly when the supervisor swept in, his robes almost swallowing the waif of a child, and came upon her with a sneer on his face. Two soldiers framed him, they each took one arm of Moira's and lifted her to her feet. Instantly, the little girl let out a strong wail and started to kick.

"I want my mama! Mama! Stop! I wanna go home! Mama!" The soldiers started marching her towards a pair of large, velvet red drapes. They disappeared between a slit in the middle, and Perryn could hear the booming voice of the announcer begin to list the girl's experience and skills to the crowd. A cold fist felt like it had gripped onto her heart, as firm as if it were holding onto a baby bird trying to escape.

The boy in front of her turned around, trying to swipe at her hand that had fisted his tunic. "Oi! Stop that!" He growled her gruffly. Perryn forced her fingers to unfurl themselves, snatching them back to its place on her lap as she did.

Suddenly, a long shadow cast itself over her. Her skin turned cold. She didn't look up when she heard her name sneered in that gravely, cold way. She jumped when two big pairs of hands locked on other side of her arm and pulled her to her feet. Perryn didn't fight, she let them march her towards the looming velvet curtains and all the while, tried not to show she was afraid.

Because she was terrified

"That's a good girl," One of the soldiers told her in what he assumed was a comforting way. "It's not so bad. You'll get yourself a good master, with a roof over your head and a meal to eat. You youngin's get snatched up fast."

Perryn was beginning to understand why Moira had been calling for her mother. She couldn't think of anyone she wanted more right now than her papa, and thinking about him bought tears to her eyes.

What would her new master be like? Would he have other maids like Master Herron? Would he be nice or cruel? She'd heard of slaves who'd been beaten badly for disobeying.

All too soon, they passed through the crack in the curtains and the soldiers led her up a rickety set of small stairs. They emerged onto a wide stage. On the furthest end was a man in a silk tunic, well-fitted breeches and boots with buttons that shone even without the sunlight there. Besides him was a woman bent over a desk, she was scribbling madly onto sheets of paper. They both looked up as she came in and she had to resist the urge to bolt.

A ring of soldiers stood at the bottom of the stage, looking outwards to the crowd who had seated themselves for the auction. It was a large crowd, and all eyes were on her. A few leaned over to their friends or partners and murmured under their breaths. Perryn felt naked, childishly folding her arms across her chest and refusing to take her eyes off the floor. The soldiers helped her onto a small wooden stand in the centre of the stage.

The announcer in the shiny boots started talking loudly. "Young Emelanese girl. Ten years of age. Is of healthy condition. Is of quiet and submissive temperament. Has had experience in kitchen duties, cleaning duties and gardening duties. Would be good for masters who are in need of a young slave to do manual work, has worked in two households." He stopped for a moment to let the crowd murmur to themselves "Bidding will start at one silver crescent. Do we have any one interested in her, ladies and gentleman?"

A few people began to rise. The shouting of prices began to make her ears burn, and Perryn tried her hardest not to cry. She felt like a humiliated dog, with all of these people assessing her worth in life. They didn't care that she was a little girl, a human being like them, she was a piece of property. She wasn't human.

"Thirty silver crescents!"

"I wouldn't spend one copper on this wrench!" A familiar voice angrily yelled in the crowd. Perryn looked up, surprised. There, in the crowd and dressed in his finery, was Master Herron of Herron House. His face was screwed up in disgust, which was much more humiliating than the hunger in everyone else's. "I had this girl as my slave, and she's not worth any of you parting with your hard-earned coin! She be-witched me! Her master! She's clumsy with any task you give her and she spoiled my food, she tried to poison me!"

The crowd started flittering again. Gasps of surprise and disdain emerged from gaping mouths, gossip fluttering behind open hand-held fans of the women, jeering from the men but all eyes were on her.

"She's lucky I didn't press charges!" Master Herron shouted. He looked at her and they locked eyes for a brief moment, brown on brown, and a triumphant smirk lit up his face as he sat back down.

It wasn't enough that he had hit her, had cast her out of the house with only the clothes on her back. He had to spoil any chance of her obtaining work too. She would end up on the street, prey to any person, just another less than human thing. Perryn could have spoken up and told the truth. She could've told them that she had only dropped one thing in her entire service, a bowl of soup, and that hardly warranted an acclaim of clumsy. She could've told them that she hadn't put anything in her master's food that would make him violently ill (she still didn't know how that had happened).

Perryn didn't say a thing. Because these people wouldn't listen to someone who was worth next to nothing.

The announcer cleared his throat loudly, which was almost silent in the murmurs and chatter of the crowd. He looked uncomfortable. Most slaves were bought on first auction, but sometimes they had children who were just not wanted. In that case, they were taken back to the house until another auction, and if that too failed, they couldn't do anything but let them out to the street to fend for themselves.

Perryn distinctly remembered her short time on the street. It wasn't a pleasant memory.

"Silence, please. Silence." The announcer ordered "We were unaware of the situation that this Master has told us, and we will take appropriate action. If no one would like the girl, the bidding will now close and we'll bring in another-"

At the back of the crowd, a tall and lean older man stood up. Perryn couldn't see the colour of his eyes but she could see he had long, silver-streaked dark hair that was pulled back. He had a craggy and lined face with a salt and pepper moustache, it may have looked very unkempt but the way he dressed in his linen and powerful posture gave him an air of confidence. She could tell immediately that this man was different from the others.

The announcer cleared his throat again. "Uh, Master Goldeye, was there something you wanted to add?"

Master Goldeye's tone was surprisingly light in tone for a man. "Yes, I would like to still buy the young lady." He lifted a small pouch. "I believe that this would do it."

A hushed silence fell over the crowd and Perryn saw Master Herron scowl at the other man. Her curiosity piqued, who was this Master Goldeye? At the nod of the announcer, Master Goldeye began to approach the stage and two other soldiers took her to the female scribe. Already, the announcer was chatting about another slave and the boy from before was carried into the auction set.

Perryn took the time to study her new master. He was much older, but he appeared kindly and strong as well. His clothes were immaculate, suggesting a pride in his manner of dress, there was an air of wisdom and power that she couldn't shake. Her brain was hinting that he could possibly be a mage of some sort, but nowadays you couldn't be sure. If he was one...she twitched apprehensively, she'd never worked under a mage before. What would one ask her to do, anyway?

"Master Niklaren Goldeye, that would be one silver crescent for the girl." The scribe stiffly spoke, her lips were pursed so thinly that it reminded Perryn of a lizard.

The man withdrew one coin – a coin that made Perryn sick to her stomach to think, that was how much she was worth – he passed it to the scribe who deposited it into a wooden box. She scribbled onto documents and turned them around, handing him the writing instrument.

"We will need your signature, of course, and on this one too – although that copy will be your receipt. You're also aware that you have chosen this girl yourself and that we are not responsible for any behaviour or accident that occurs from her service. You are welcome to take the issue up with the appropriate lawful government. Once she is your slave, the responsibility of rewards and punishment is yours. We do not offer loans or any currency aid for board, clothing or food for your slave once she is passed into your service. If you find anything unsatisfactory or no longer wish her in your service, it is your responsibility to exercise whatever rightful course of action you deem necessary. However, the government has particular laws about slavery abuse-"

Perryn didn't think the lady would ever stop talking. _Maybe if I dropped a crushed chilli pepper down her throat, _Perryn thought, fascinated but afraid of this woman. _Would she still stop talking or would she just talk about how hot her mouth would be? _All the while, Goldeye nodded as he read the document and signed appropriately. He sighed as he took his receipt, elegantly rolling it and tying it with a piece of silk ribbon he pulled from seemingly nowhere, then tucked it in the folds of his jacket.

"Congratulations, Master Goldeye." The woman finally finished. As if the talk had been just as tedious as Perryn found it, he nodded to her.

"Good day, ma'am." He finally turned to Perryn, and his eyes were so kind that she almost forgot that her knees had been quacking through the whole session. This was her master now.

He held out his hand, "Niklaren Goldeye, but you may call me Niko."

Perryn didn't know what to do with the hand. She had seen other people shake hands before, but surely this man didn't want to do any such thing with her – besides she was filthy. Nervously, Perryn curtsied lowly instead, a feat that felt almost ironic as her chains rattled with her. But a curtsy she could do well, after Master Herron had insisted she curtsy to everyone who was of higher status than her at every greeting and exit. Practise indeed made perfect.

She wanted to say something smart to his man. Something bold and intelligent that would impress him, like the heroines in books. But even when her lips parted, her throat closed up and she doubted she could manage a squeak.

Niko looked dubiously at the cuffs around her wrists and feet, "Would it be possible, ma'am," He almost snapped at the scribe "For you to remove her chains? She won't be needing them again."

The scribe cast him an almost loathing look, but suggested for the soldiers to remove them. Perryn felt jumpier than a rabbit as the men closed in on her again, what if it was just a joke and they would take her back to the house again? But they removed her cuffs, one of them even patted her on the back but Perryn frightfully jumped away so fast that it ended in him patting air. His partner chuckled.

She rubbed her wrists absently, enjoying the feel of her skin without the weight of those chains weighing her down. She felt almost free.

_Don't be ridiculous, _Perryn scolded herself _You're still a servant. Just hopefully, this man is much nicer than Master Herron._

Perryn looked up into Niko's eyes, finding them thoughtful, and managed two words that she hadn't ever genuinely meant until now. "Thank you."

He gave her a thin smile. "That is quite alright. Now, let's be off, we have much land to cover and not enough time, I'm afraid."

Perryn hurried to keep up with his fast pace as they left the stage. She cast one last look to the auction. The boy had been sold to a fat, older man and another slave was being taken in. The announcer's voice already in full volume again. One man in the crowd was looking back at her. His cold sneer sent a chill down her spine, it said to her _I'll get you one day._

She grabbed a fist full of Niko's linen shirt and stuck to him closely. But he didn't say anything, only led her away from her old life.


End file.
